


Wedding Week

by Goldenbuttons



Series: Changes [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:32:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenbuttons/pseuds/Goldenbuttons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock refused to play any part in planning John's stag night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. W minus 7

**Author's Note:**

> A wedding is not merely a one day event-it is more like a well oiled military campaign spread over a considerable time. The week leading up to the wedding usually operates to a timetable.   
> I plan to do a seven part, seven day story on the week of John and Cathy's wedding. On the Saturday prior to the wedding they planned to hold John's stag night and Cathy's hen's night.

Sherlock categorically refused to have any part in organising John’s stag party.

“John, I cannot see the point in us going out, drinking too much and ogling over naked women. In your last days as a single man are you expected to do things you might never do again? If looking at other women naked is so appealing you wouldn’t be getting married. Why do you want to do things you wouldn’t want Cathy to know about anyway? No, I want nothing to do with this travesty. I’ll carry out the best man duties on the day, but I just can’t do this. In any case, I have no interest in it and I would only inhibit your other friends.” 

John could only gulp in amazement at Sherlock’s new found self-awareness, but his words did make a lot of sense.

Then Greg stepped into the breach and tried to think of suitable places to go on the big night. He suggested a night at the local pub; “No, we want something a bit different”, he suggested they find a strip club; “no Sherlock is right- it really would be tacky”, he suggested they go on a river cruise; “a bit touristy”. In the end, he suggested paintballing; 

“Really, paintball, that might be fun. We do it in teams, don’t we? I suppose we could split my army buddies up, and split up the coppers too, because most of you have at least a bit of firearms training. It would be a lot better than getting drunk or watching strippers!”

When they told Cathy, she just groaned. “I wish we could do something like that. Emma is trying to organise my hen’s night and everything seems to involve drinking. I don’t mind a couple of drinks but everything seems to rely upon drinking far too much and behaving badly. Not really my thing, is it?”

“Why can’t you do it too? John, how would you feel if we had a combined stag/hens night at paintballing? We could split up the women between the two teams, just like we split up the military and police so the teams are fairly evenly matched. Cathy, how would your girlfriends feel about getting dirty?” 

“Well my knitting buddy Sam might object to the presumption. She’s ex-army herself, and I think she would probably prefer to be treated as one of the troops.”

And so, it was all arranged. On the Saturday morning a week before the wedding a bus pulled up outside 221 Baker Street where 30 or so of John and Cathy’s friends had gathered ready for a day of fun –although by the conversation on the way to the range, a few of the ex-soldiers in particular seemed to be taking it very seriously. When he found out that the day would involve “shooting”, even Sherlock had agreed to come along. Most of Cathy’s friends had agreed that it sounded better than a night in a pub or club. Neither Peter nor Caroline had accepted their invitation, but Cathy was not surprised. Baby Alexander was only a few weeks old and neither parent wanted to leave him and Hannah with a sitter yet.

As they travelled the hour or so to the paintball range, John and Cathy’s friends got acquainted. A few of them already knew each other, but as their friends moved around the bus, John and Cathy were optimistic about the party mood at their wedding.

A couple of Cathy’s friends made a point of asking who the gorgeous looking man next to John was, and Cathy tried to explain about their best friend; should she tell them he was married to his work, or let them know he was unattached? Instead she settled on telling them that Sherlock was surprisingly shy and awkward around strangers, but suggesting that they could possibly ask him to dance next Saturday. Maybe.

Once they arrived at the range, Cathy was amazed at the change in some of her friends. While she had expected them to enjoy themselves, she had not anticipated anything like the level of competitiveness they displayed. Her colleagues from work and some of her friends from knitting suddenly turned into commandos. Some of John’s friends had to re-evaluate their opinions of the “girls”, once they realised that these women had turned aggressive as soon as they picked up their weapons. All that was forgotten over lunch, and in the afternoon session the teams were swapped around. Sherlock, not surprisingly, had chosen to not compete (paintball would have absolutely ruined that suit!) but followed the referees around to see how the games worked.

By the end of the day, the bus took home a group of tired and dirty friends. Plus Sherlock, who still looked as fresh as he had when he boarded the bus in the morning. 

The verdict was a unanimous “yes”. 

The first event of Wedding Week was a success.


	2. W minus 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of paintball.

Cathy had no idea that you could get so many bruises from paintball. 

“I hope none of those will show by Saturday. Not really the look I was going for!” 

“Just make sure you hide them from your mother. I really don’t want to have to explain how you got a bruise just... THERE”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paintball really does leave the participants with large round bruises all over the place. Hopeflly John will kiss them better. Wherever they might be.


	3. W minus 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only five days until the wedding.

By Monday, Cathy’s bruises on her legs and arse are livid and her muscles are complaining vigorously. She decided to spend an hour at the gym on her way home from school to try and ease her aches and pains. 

All of today’s ‘To Do’ items are ticked off; the numbers for the reception have been confirmed, John rang earlier to say that he went to the Bureau de Change for some Australian dollars to spend on their honeymoon (if the exchange rate improves during the week, they won’t care-they need some cash on hand when they arrive at Sydney airport, and now that is taken care of), the rehearsal dinner on Thursday night at Angelo’s, the flowers, hairdresser and hotel booking for Friday and Saturday have all been confirmed. 

When Cathy gets home from the gym, there is a post-it on the fridge – John and Sherlock are on a case, but Sherlock thinks it is only a five, so they should be home later that night, don’t wait for them for dinner, but it would be nice if she could keep some food for them. 

Cathy takes advantage of the quiet to finish the last of the four shawls she is making for her bridesmaids and herself. She is just weaving in the ends when John and Sherlock rush in the door.

“I really do not know why Lestrade can’t take care of these simple cases himself. Surely even a probationary constable could have seen that the manager’s secretary had been diverting the funds to her own account. He was simply too besotted to see it, until the auditors called in the police.”

“Sherlock, it is only simple once you explain it. To the rest of the world it not that obvious. We can’t all have your genius.”

Sherlock preened a little, as Cathy asked them to explain the details of the case while she heated their dinners. 

“I hope Lestrade understands that while we are away you won’t be in telephone contact. They are simply going to have to manage without the pair of you for two weeks. The criminals of London will have a field day!”

“Well” murmured John, “I simply don’t care.”

“John, don’t be ridiculous, of course you will care. Caring is what you do. The police will just have to manage. They can always email me if it’s an emergency, but otherwise, well, if there’s a backlog of cases when we return, at least I won’t be bored for a few days.”

Cathy can’t help but think that a backlog of cases might be a very good thing indeed.


	4. W minus 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday night is always John and Greg's pub night.

Tuesday night had been pub night for John and Greg since a few months after Sherlock ‘left’. A few times they had briefly considered breaking the habit, but they both got so much enjoyment from the couple of hours each week, that, unless either or both of them were on a case, Tuesday night was still pub night. The fact that John was getting married in 4 days was no reason to stay home. In fact, Cathy had urged him to keep the night free to go to the pub and share a couple of drinks with Greg.

Sometimes on pub night they would talk about football, occasionally about their respective jobs, but since Sherlock had returned, they usually talked about their friend and his latest craziness. Tonight was no exception. The friends were still amazed at how Sherlock had spent the whole of Saturday at paintball in his suit and had returned home still looking immaculate.

“I don’t even know if he owns any casual clothes. For all I know he will front up at the resort in a suit, and no grain of sand would dare to get caught in his shoes”

“What do you mean the resort? Is Sherlock going away?”

“Didn’t he tell you, damn, he said you knew that he would be away for the next two weeks, and not only away, but with no mobile phone access. There is internet at the resort, so if you have a problem you can email him, but you can’t phone OR text, and he won’t be on hand for anything until we get back.”

“John, you say that as if you will be at the same place, aren’t you and Cathy going to be on your honeymoon?”

“Well, that’s the thing. Cathy and I decided that we would like to go somewhere tropical and maybe learn scuba diving. She has always wanted to learn, and it sounded like fun. And useful too. So naturally Sherlock decided that he should learn too. You know he hates to not know something that anyone else knows. So he insisted that he should come with us and learn scuba diving too.”

“You didn’t. Oh no, you did! Cathy must be furious.”

“Surprisingly no. It’s funny, he had always tried to break me up from all the women I went out with before, not that it was hard, he would insist that I go on some case or other with him and they all left. Cathy is different. When he thought about moving out, she insisted that he had to stay in the basement flat so it would be easier for us to go on cases. All she asks for is a note or a text message to say where we are and whether we want her to keep some dinner for us.”

“You’re kidding, I knew they got on well, but I had no idea she was so happy with the two of you going on cases and stuff like that.”

“She says it’s just like having another brother, only smarter. She pays him as many compliments as I do. I think it helps that we were well established together before he came back, whereas the other women I dated, well we just never really had a relationship to break up. With her, it’s totally different. She put on her ‘teacher voice’ and told him that there were a couple of simple rules, and he actually sticks to them. It’s amazing to see, I think he adores her. No, not like I do, again it’s just like she is the sister he always wanted.”

“Well... but even if your brother is your best friend, you don’t ask him along on your honeymoon. Won’t it be a bit, you know, sort of awkward, if you and Cathy want to go off on your own, or spend the afternoon in bed or something?”

“Once upon a time I would have said yes, but just after he got back we sorted the whole thing out. He stormed into our room one morning and was utterly mortified. I don’t think I had ever seen him blush before. That’s when Cathy laid down the law; we are all allowed to go through open doors, but if the door is closed, we knock and wait to be asked in. Under no circumstances do any of us barge in through a closed door. And although we are leaving London together, we are stopping for a couple of days while he goes straight to the resort. I think he wants to get a head start on lessons. Then after we leave the resort, he will fly directly home, while we will stop for a few days en route. It means we have about a week with him and a week in total without him. We figured it was better to know where he was and when he would be there with us. If we had said no, he probably would have turned up anyway and we would have had no control at all over the situation.”

“OK, it just sounds a bit, I don’t know, odd”

“Maybe, but it works for us. And he will be back four days before us. I think he gets back on the Thursday, we don’t get back until the Monday. By then, he should have cleared up at least a few crimes.”


	5. W minus 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy's parents come to London to prepare for their 'baby' daughter's wedding.

Tom and Ellen Greenwood loved their sons, Peter and Mike, but were thrilled when Cathy was born. Peter was seven and Mike five and at first they were unimpressed by a baby who not only couldn’t play with them, but was a girl. When she started to walk, they were annoyed when she broke their toys, but by then they were as besotted as their parents. Cathy grew up as a much adored daughter and sister. Her brothers still treated her as their treasured baby sister, and were still incredibly protective towards her.

Peter had married Caroline five years ago and now they had two lovely children, Hannah was nearly two and Alexander had been born last month. Mike had met Emma almost five years ago and they had moved in together within a month or two. Despite Tom and Ellen’s fervent wishes and non-too subtle hints, they didn’t seem to want to marry at all. Nevertheless, they did seem to be happy together although his parents hoped that they would marry before they started having the children they seemed so keen to have. 

But it was their baby, their little girl, who had been the object of their greatest hopes. Cathy had dated a couple of boys at university, but since then she had not brought anyone home to meet them. When they had met John, they had been very impressed with him. He was a bit older than Cathy, but he seemed a thoroughly decent man, an ex-soldier and a doctor to boot. He had told them that first weekend that he was very serious about Cathy, but didn’t plan to propose for a while. And yet, only a month later he had rung them to ask their permission to marry their daughter.

Now, fifteen months later they were driving to London to prepare for her wedding later in the week. Ellen had wanted the wedding to be held in Torquay, and conducted by their own minister, but as Cathy pointed out, she had no ties to Torquay, and all their friends and many of their relatives lived in London. Reluctantly, Tom and Ellen had agreed that the wedding should be held at the church a couple of blocks from Baker Street and the reception would be held at hotel in the city.

Cathy was busily checking and rechecking the house to make sure that everything was ready for her parents. Sherlock had ignored it for as long as he could, but in the end it was all too much.

“Cathy! Will you please stop all this running around NOW! The place is ready for them. What on earth do you think they will do, check behind the cupboards for dust? Now. Just. Stop. Your parents are coming to see you and to go to your wedding, not to inspect our house.” And then he went downstairs to check the results of some experiment that was nearly finalised.

Cathy tried, she really did, but she kept thinking of things to do before her parents arrived. The day before, her last day of work for the term, her department had given her a magnificent bunch of flowers, which now held pride of place in the sitting room. She had bought some smaller bunches for the bedrooms this morning when she checked with the florist that everything was in order. The bouquets would definitely be delivered to the house by mid Saturday morning. Now she checked the water in the vases for the third time this morning. As she put the water jug back in the kitchen, she started at the sound of the door bell, 

“Oh, that will be them. Is everything right?” 

“Yes Cathy, of course it’s right” said John, “it looks perfect. Come on; let’s bring in them and their bags.”

When everyone else sat down for lunch, Sherlock insisted that he wasn’t hungry, he would get something for himself later. 

“Well, remember we are going to Peter and Caroline’s tonight for dinner. Will you be right to get something for dinner too?” 

“Yes Cathy, I will be fine. You don’t need to fuss. Sometimes I think you are as bad as John.” Somehow from her gleeful grin, Cathy didn’t seem to be suitably chastened by the comparison.

A few minutes before 6pm, just as Tom, Ellen, John and Cathy were getting ready to leave for dinner, Sherlock bounded up the stairs. 

“John, John, we have a case. Kidnapping, small child, Dimmock needs us to meet him at her home” 

John started to protest “But Sherlock, you know...” 

“John, just go. It’s important. He knows how busy we are this week. He wouldn’t have rung Sherlock if anyone else could solve the crime. It’s a little girl. John, go. We’ll give your apologies to Peter and Caroline. I’m sure they will understand. Now you go and help find that little girl. Just remember, our rehearsal is at 7pm tomorrow at the Church. I expect you to both be there. If you can’t, well send me a text, or better still ring me.” And with a warm hug and kiss she pushed him towards the door. 

“Come on John. They need us. We’ll see you tonight or maybe tomorrow Cathy.” And the two friends rushed out the door. 

“What was that all about?” asked Ellen. “Do they always get called away like that?” asked her husband. As they headed out the door to drive to Peter and Caroline’s, Cathy explained that this was not uncommon. That Sherlock was a valued consultant to Scotland Yard, and that John usually helped on cases, particularly the more difficult ones. 

“And you’re alright with that?” quizzed her mother. 

“Of course, Sherlock is a wonderful detective, he constantly solves crimes and saves lives, and John was his colleague long before I met him. They are doing incredibly important work, and I would never try to stop them.”


	6. W minus 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl has been kidnapped, and John and Sherlock need to get to the wedding rehearsal

Just after 2am, Cathy’s sleep was disturbed when John climbed carefully into bed.

“Hush my love, go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Mmmm, love you” and she threw her arm around his waist and snuggled against his back.

A few hours later, Cathy pulled on her dressing gown and went to the kitchen while John showered. To her surprise, Sherlock was already sitting at the table, poring over the morning papers, which he had obviously gone out to buy. 

“Is the case solved already? John is in the shower so we haven’t had a chance to talk.”

“No, there must be something I’m missing. John insisted we come back here, he could hardly stand he was so tired. We are going back to the mother’s house in a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you have your shower while I cook your breakfast, then at least I will know that neither of you will faint from hunger. You can tell me about the case while you eat.”

“But “

“No buts. Your brain needs food to operate properly. Brain food. Protein and carbohydrates are necessary for brain function. While you have your shower I will cook an omelette and toast. You NEED brain food.”

Once both men were dressed, they sat down to have their breakfast, John eagerly, Sherlock more reluctantly, while they told Cathy about the kidnapping of Isabelle McDonald.

“The girl is four. Her parents are divorced, apparently amicably. In any case, the father is in Afghanistan with the army, which caused John to get sentimental, you know how he is. David McDonald was due back from his tour of duty last week but it had been delayed and now he is to return next Thursday, and he is due to pick up Isabelle on the Saturday and take her to his mother’s home in Leeds for two weeks. Debra McDonald and Isabelle live with Debra’s mother, Janette. Janette took Isabelle to the child care centre at 8.30 yesterday afternoon. When Debra arrived to pick her up at 4.45pm, Isabelle was no-where to be found. The centre doesn’t seem to have any record of who might have picked her up, and yet she was not in the premises.”

“And the parents have a good relationship? There is no hint that the father...”

“Not as far as I can tell. He is not in the country, so he couldn’t have done it himself, but I suppose he MIGHT have arranged for someone... but as soon as I suggested that this sort of thing is usually due to a custody dispute, both women were quite insistent that it couldn’t possibly have been; David is a great father, the marriage broke down, but he remained on good terms with both the ex-wife and her mother. In any case, even if he wanted full custody, with his work he has had two tours of duty already since Isabelle was born and expects to have another later in the year or early next year, so he couldn’t look after her anyway. When he is on leave, he usually takes the girl to his mother’s home for a couple of weeks, then brings her back to London and visits her at least every second weekend while he is in the country.”

“So if they all get on so well, why did the marriage break down in the first place?”

John answered “It’s so common while you’re on deployment, so many of the troops find that the girl, or guy, they left at home gets lonely, and they look elsewhere for company. From what Debra said I suspect that this is what happened to the McDonalds.”

“If they broke up over another man, where is he? Is he still around? She left her husband for him, so is he living with them, did he marry her, or was it just a fling?”

“Cathy, you’re a gem, THOSE are the questions we need to ask. John, when we go back, would you like to ask the grandmother? Turn on your charm, she will know who the other person is and what happened to them.”

And with that, Sherlock grabbed his slice of toast and rushed to the door. John stopped to give Cathy a hug and kiss, and ran after his friend. 

“We should be back before the rehearsal. 7pm, isn’t it? I’ll call, if we can’t get back before we’ll meet you at the Church.”

By 6.30, Ellen was getting anxious and seemed to find it personally insulting that John and Sherlock had not been home all day. 

“Cathy, is it like this all the time? You have to insist that John put you ahead of this running around after his friend. This is no way to start married life. He isn’t even here for the wedding rehearsal!” 

Cathy was a little anxious herself, but determined to not give her mother the satisfaction of showing it. 

“Mother, this is their work. It’s not like they are off playing games or drinking or chasing women. They are working, and their work hours depend on when criminals decide to commit crime. They don’t keep office hours. I always tell John to keep in touch, let me know where they are going and when he will be home. He rang me earlier and he will do his best to be at the Church by 7pm. If he is late, well I will just have to tell him what he has to do. At the moment, the most important thing is that he rescues this little girl.”

When they reached the Church, the rest of the wedding party was there, but there was no sign of the groom or best man. The minister seemed only slightly flustered, and when Cathy explained that they were working and would do their best to join them soon, he set about organising Cathy and her attendants to practice for their grand entrance. At 7.23, just as they were about to give up waiting and leave, John and Sherlock rushed in the door. 

“Sorry we’re late, but we had a crime to solve.” 

“Is it solved?” 

“Yes, I’m sure Sherlock will tell you all about it over dinner.” 

The minister proceeded to fill in John and Sherlock on their roles in the ceremony, and within a few minutes, with promises that John and his attendants would be there at 2.30pm on Saturday, and Cathy and her attendants would be there by 3pm, the minister locked up the Church building and the wedding party headed to Angelo’s for their dinner.

Once they were seated and everyone had ordered, Cathy demanded 

“OK, did you solve the crime, HOW did you solve it, who had taken the little girl, is she safe?”

“Of course I solved it. Well we solved it. And you helped too. You were right this morning, it did have something to do with the man the mother left her husband for. His name is Matthew Philips. She had told him a few weeks earlier that she didn’t want to see him again. He knew her husband was coming home; he thought David would be back last week and probably thought he would be blamed for it. He went to the child care centre, Isabelle wasn’t worried about going with him, he took her to his sister’s place, he hadn’t told her that he had broken up with Debra, just asked if she could mind the little girl overnight. Then he was going to ‘find’ Isabelle, take her back to her mother, he would be the hero of the moment, Debra would take him back and he would live happily ever after.”

“That’s crazy. How on earth would he be able to magically produce Isabelle without everyone knowing that he had done it? I mean, she is four years old, surely she could tell people who had taken her. He must have known it wouldn’t work.”

“Cathy, I know I have told you before, people are idiots, and people like Matthew Philips are proof that I’m right. His plan could never have worked, and now he will have a few years to think about his stupidity.”

“She certainly won’t ever doubt that she was right to break up with him. What a total loser. Completely crazy. Is Isabelle safe, back with her mother yet?”

John replied “she looked fine to me, but they were about to take her to A & E for a check up. Then she will sleep tonight in her own bed, in a day or two it will all be a dim memory.”

Ellen interjected “I’m sure her mother will never forget it.” And then with somewhat reluctant admiration in her voice, “John, do you and Sherlock solve these sorts of crime often? I don’t know how you can stand to deal with people like that.”

John looked at her soon-to-be mother in law and smiled, “They can be nerve wracking at the time, but knowing we have reunited a little girl with her family makes it all worthwhile.”


	7. W minus 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the case; the day before the wedding.

‘Before’, when Sherlock had his post-case crash, he sprawled over the couch for anything from 15 to 25 hours, depending on how long it had been since he last slept. John would try to get at least a few hours sleep each day during cases, and so would wake several hours before Sherlock, and then try to clean the mess of anything up to a week without disturbing his sleeping friend, who was like a bear with a sore head if woken too soon. Usually, John would usually give up on cleaning, and go out to restock the fridge and pantry, and still Sherlock would sleep.

Today, Sherlock was probably still asleep, but at least now he lived in the basement flat, so the last day of wedding preparations could proceed without the fear of annoying the hibernating bear of a detective. 

John and Cathy had originally intended to stay together until Saturday morning when John would take their overnight bags to the hotel where the reception was to be held, and where they had booked the honeymoon suite. Cathy’s mother, however, was outraged at the thought that they might see each other before the wedding.

“It’s bad luck!” she proclaimed, and refused to listen to John or Cathy when they tried to tell her that neither of them believed in luck. 

So John was going to book in to the hotel on Friday, Sherlock, Greg and Mike would meet him there on Saturday afternoon and take a cab to the Church. Packing for one or two nights away at the same time as they packed for two weeks on their honeymoon was merely irritating, not difficult.

 

Most of the last minute things could be done by phone or internet; the flowers would be delivered in the morning, a hair and make up artist would arrive at 10am to ensure that Cathy, her attendants and her mother looked at their best for the day, the photographer would arrive at 2pm, the wedding cars would arrive at 2.45pm (“it’s two and a half blocks, do we REALLY need to hire cars?” “Yes Cathy, we do!”)

 

By midday on Friday, everything that could be done had been done, and when Sherlock emerged looking fresh and well rested, announcing that he was ‘starving’, the whole household decided to go out for lunch. They headed to the end of the street to John and Sherlock’s favourite Chinese restaurant, where Sherlock, to John and Cathy’s surprise, turned a charm offensive onto Tom and Ellen. 

“Cathy, you never told me how nice Sherlock was. You’ve been keeping us from getting to know him and I can’t see why.” 

“Nice, mum? We both love Sherlock dearly but nice isn’t the word I’d usually choose. Brilliant, yes; talented, yes; loyal, yes; nice, not really” 

Sherlock looked wounded “Cathy, I can be nice; I just usually don’t meet people I want to be nice for. Like your parents“. 

“Nice just seems so...bland. And bland is not something I would ever think of when I think of you.”

About 4pm, John and Cathy took a cab to check in to the hotel with their overnight bags and John’s suit-bag. 

“I am just about convinced that eloping would have been a great idea. I keep thinking that there is something I haven’t done, but I’ve got no idea what.” 

“Well, you could help me check out the bed in the honeymoon suite, make sure that it’s in working condition.” 

“I don’t think that I could go back to Baker Street and not have everyone know. Even if my parents didn’t guess, Sherlock would be sure to tell them.” 

“I’m not sure, did you see the way he was charming your parents today. Your mother was just about purring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was married, I actually did the catering myself, but that's because I'm crazy. I have organised a few weddings, (including the catering), and it is definitely a form or torture. Like Cathy, I was always sure I had forgotten something, and yet it never really mattered. No-one actually remembers the little mistakes.


End file.
